


Every Dog Has His Day

by Detroitbydark



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, a clone and his "dog", boy meets girl, the Coruscant guard as family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:54:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25648402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Detroitbydark/pseuds/Detroitbydark
Summary: Sargent Hound, the GAR's leading massiff handler, received his moniker for his dogged determination. Nuna Skii is about to put that to the test.A lost bet and traffic operations never turned out so good.
Relationships: Sargent Hound/OC
Comments: 12
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set in the same verse as It Comes To You On Silent Feet. This does take place post chapter six of that story. It can be ready completely independently without any knowledge of ICTYOSF. It's just a cute bit of fluff I hope y'all enjoy.

_“From Kessel to Kijimi, this is Nuna Skii flying you through the dark hours of the night. I’d like to give a shout to-.”_

Hound hunches forward over the handle bars to the GAR issued speeder. Traffic Ops. Kriff.

It would teach him to make a bet with Thire. Then again, how was he to know that the Commander actually had it in him to bag the cute little secretary that took up guard duty outside of his office door.

Obviously not Hound.

The ARF Sargent sighs before turning the radio up. He’d rather be back in his barracks with his massiff at his feet than clocking for speeders and traffic violations. It wasn’t that it was below him it was just… well it _was_ below him. He didn’t go through recon school to be looking for our of date tags.

At least he got to listen to his favorite radio show.

_“-and more of that sweet jizz music coming from Dantooine as a special favor to my boys in the 332nd”_

Nuna Skii’s show on Independent Republic Radio was a favorite of many a trooper. Overnights were _osik_ but the sweet smoky sound of her voice and the frequent shoutouts - often laced with innuendo - were definitely one way to pass the time. And if her voice was stored in the spank banks of half the troopers in the GAR? Well, that was just an added bonus to her show.

“Just you, me and an empty sky lane tonight, eh Nuna?” He asks the radio.

_“How about we take another deep dive into an absolutely delicious track, yeah?”_

“You could sell me some ocean front property on Tatooine and I’d pay top dollar. Hit me with it, babygirl.”

He only does a handful of stops and doesn’t write a single ticket for the next six hours.

———

She was so karking tired. Like, tired was an understatement. Half-dead might be more correct. She needed atomic grade caf or a bed to pass out in immediately. Glancing at the near stalled traffic in front of her, Nuna can’t help but think she wasn’t going to get either anytime soon.

The joys of working nights.

She really did love her job. To be a young holoradio jockey and have a spot on any station on Coruscant was pretty damn amazing but to have it on IRR? probably the single coolest station in the core worlds? It was a dream come true. Most of the time.

A yawn escapes her lips and her speeder rattles ominously underneath her.

“Oh- no, no, no.” She mutters looking down at her gauges. Warning lights flash brightly. She’d just gotten the kriffing thing out of the shop last week. They were supposed to have fixed the thrusters. The bike leans to the right and Nuna feels the tell tale swoop in her stomach from a sudden drop in altitude. It wasn’t much more than a few feet but if it was anything like it was the week before she needed a landing platform. And fast.

The early morning light bounces off the transparisteel buildings around her as she tries to find the nearest safe bet. Her speeder bike coughs once and jerks again, jostling her helmeted head. She sucks in a sharp breath as it pulls hard, dragging her from the skylane and into open air. It’s a struggle to keep the thing upright as she tries to guide it in for a landing on the nearest platform. Lights flash in her rear view.

“Really? Really?!” She hisses to herself as her muscles strain to keep the bike on course.

She manages to land the malfunctioning speeder, the ungainly pile of scrap plopping down with all the grace of a pregnant nerf.

The Coruscant Guard bike, all sleek lines, gunmetal grey and cherry red accents lands feet behind her.

Hers makes one last wheeze and cuts off. The good thing is, she’s wide awake now. No caf needed.

“Ma’am?”

Nuna turns to see the visage of snarling maw cocking it’s head in her direction.

“You ok?”

She swallows hard. It was a known fact within her small circle of friends that Nuna Skii - the real Nuna Skii not the sex kitten holojockey- was absolute mush for a guys in uniform and the one stepping closer was definitely one that would make her heart pump harder if it weren’t already for the adrenaline of a near death experience. If there was a name for kink involving men in helmets Nuna had it.

“I- uh- yeah” she takes a deep breath because now was not the place and certainly not the time, “I’m good”

The trooper’s head cocks the opposite direction as he points toward her handlebars. “You know you’re ok to let those go now, right?”

A nervous laugh escapes her lips. Her hands feel stiff from the exertion of the landing and she wiggles her fingers, forcing the blood back into them as she pulls them back toward her. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“No problem. Can I see your identichip and registration?”

Nuna gives him a blank stare for half a second, eyes moving almost comically from his outstretched hand and back up to his helmet. His free hand rests at his kama, index finger tapping idly. He’s got to be kidding, she nearly died and he was going to-

“You’re going to give me a ticket?” She pulls her helmet off with little fanfare and hangs it from the handle bars. “Really? I nearly died and now I’m getting a ticket?!”

The trooper holds both hands up, “Easy there. No one said anything about a ticket. Just because you broke about three different traffic codes and at least two vehicular safety ones…” he lets the implication of what he’s said hang in the air.”

Nuna pulls the requested items out of her bag and hands them to the trooper with more aggression than needed but, damn it all, she was so tired she could cry and now she had to deal with a broke down speeder. Again.

She watches as the trooper looks down at the identichip and then back to her. Once, twice, three times.

“Is there a problem?”

“You’re Nuna Skii- I mean like the _real_ Nuna Skii?” The tone of his voice has changed and he almost seems… excited?

“Uh yeah, guilty as charged. Listen, is this going to-“ she pulls her jacket tight around her to fight off the chill of the morning wind rising up through the levels

“Say, ‘flying you through the night on IRR.’”

“Is this part of your usual traffic stops?” Nuna raises a brow at the trooper. Really? Did it ever get strange enough. She swings a leg over the seat and moves to stand. Her legs shake underneath her and tall, excitable and toothy holds out a gloved hand.

“Here, let me help you.”

She takes it because falling flat on her face really doesn’t seem like something she wanted to add to her laundry list of problems this morning. When she’s standing at her full height, which was substantially shorter than the solid wall of clone trooper in front her, she looks up.

His hand moves to the back of his helmet and rubs gently, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound demanding.” He says almost bashful. “It’s just that if-“

She takes pity on him. “From Corellia to Canto Bight, flying you through the night on Independent Republic Radio”

He stands frozen for a moment. Nuna squirms under the unflinching state of his visor until finally-

“Holy Fett! It’s really you! Listen! I- I mean we- the Guard- we’re like your biggest fans.”

The wind whips up ruffling the hair on her head, deep lilac colored wisps work their way into her mouth and she spits uselessly before reaching up and using her fingers to remove them. “That’s great really-“

Her hands go to her hips. Was this guy for real?

“Hey, I know a guy that does towing. He’s kind of a _di’kut_ but he owes me a favor. I could get your ride towed where you need it. I mean, if you want?”

“Like, for free?” She clarifies.

The trooper looks down at her as if that was a given, “well, yeah.”

“And you want what in return?” Nuna fidgets. This is where the guy becomes a dirtbag and asks for something. He hands back her identichip and registration before reaching up and popping the seal on his bucket. He gives her a lopsided grin as he slips the helmet up his arm. Kriff. He was cute. His dark hair is cut into a floppy Mohawk. A stray curl of it dips down across his forehead and he offers her a lopsided grin. He is about as intimidating as a puppy.

“Can I get a shout out on your show tonight? I mean, the boys are NEVER going to believe this unless you do.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it” he seems to think for a moment and his smile becomes toothy, “unless you’d like to give me your number too?”

She can feel the hot rush of embarrassment to her cheeks and hopes he mistakes it for wind burn. She ignores his comment about her number because, this fine specimen was so far out of her league it was crazy.

“So What’s to stop me from saying yes and not doing it”

“Aww come on, please? You wouldn’t do one of your biggest fans like that would you?”

“What’s your name?” She can’t handle the soft puppy dog eyes he’s giving her. It should be illegal for any dude with shoulders that broad to look so cute.

“Sargent Hound of the Coruscant Guard at your service.”

She nearly chokes. Well, that explained the puppy dog eyes. “You drive a hard bargain, Sargent.” She says regaining her composure. She looks behind him to the GAR issued speeder. “If you can drop me at my building I’ll call it a deal.”

His smile makes her tummy flutter, “I think that can be arranged.”

——-

“You’re full of it” Rule barks “ _Osik_ up to your visor!”

Hound is lounging back on a couch that is not nearly large enough for both him and the massiff sprawled out on it. Grizzer lifts his head, licks his lips lazily and lays back down. Hound scratches around the creature’s dorsal spikes and the massiff kicks his back foot happily.

“I told you man. It was her. Identichip verified and everything.

“El-Tee? You hear this?”

Lieutenant Thire looks up from his holopad and the boloball game he was watching, “what?”

Rule is grinning from ear to ear, “Hound here says he helped Nuna Skii out of a bind this morning.”

“I’m not just saying it. I did it.” Hound explains lazily. He doesn’t tell them about giving her a ride home, pretty sure he broke about half a dozen regs just having her pressed up against his back and her arms around his waist and that was before he dropped her at her building. It was early enough in the day that he doubts anyone really noticed. If they did it was worth it to have her hands clutching at his armor.

Hound had pictured Nuna Skii so many times that the fact that she wasn’t a leggy blonde had come as a shock. What she was wasn’t a bad thing, just different. Short and soft with curves in places he wished he could run his hands all over.

“Prove it!” Ryk laughs as he ambles in, freshly showered and pulling his blacks over his head.

“Should we tell ‘Em Grizz, old man? Or should we just let them eat their buckets when it happens?”

Ryk rolls his eyes as the ARF Trooper chats with his massiff. “You know he’s never going to answer back, right?”

Grizzer looks over his shoulder at Ryk.

“Aww come on man” Hound fusses. One mearty hand moves to scratch under the massiff’s intimidating jaw. Grizzer turns into the touch, nearly purring with contentment. “Just because he can’t speak basic doesn’t mean he doesn’t understand it. Isn’t that right boy. We got our own language, Grizz and I. Smartest mas’ in the whole GAR, aren’t you?”

The creatures leathery tail thumps happily in agreement.

“Don’t know about that but he certainly smells a lot better than the bunch of you.” Thire mutters turning his attention back to boloball and cursing quietly. Ryk lifts an arm smelling.

“Not me! I’m squeaky clean!”

“We’re getting off track here” Rule announces in an attempt to refocus the gathered troopers. “What we need to know is how you’re going to prove you met Nuna Skii.”

“Did she sign a ticket?” Thire asks, not looking up. When Hound doesn’t answer Thire looks up.

“She was having a really bad morning-“

“You do know when you work traffic you have to ticket people at least once in a while.”

“Apparently, not the pretty ones.” Ryk cackles.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, _vod_.”

Ryk rolls his eyes as Hound moves to turn the radio on. Nuna’s show was starting any minute. He hoped she’d come through.

———-

Around and around Nuna spins. The wheels on her roller chair are in desperate need of oil and squeak in protest. Nuna is undeterred as she waits for the next commercial to end. Her producer glances at her through the transparisteel divider and rolls her eyes. Yes, she was a child. No, she would not be apologizing. She grabs a cold protato from a greasy Dex’s bag as she makes another loop. If her fans could see her now. She’s got on an oversized tunic and a pair of dark pants that were probably a little too tight but were way too comfortable for her to care. When she woke her hair wasn’t about to do anything for her so now it sits piled high in a sloppy bun atop her head. She was about as far away from the character she portrayed as she could get.

“On in fifteen Nunz” Tully her producer says. Nuna hurries to swallow her food and takes a big gulp of water.

“And that was the Twi’Three with their latest and I’m Nuna Skii keeping you up all night.” She purrs into the mic. “I think we’re going to go to the comms and take a few calls. Whatcha wanna let the galaxy know?”

“Hi Nuna. Long time listener. I just wanted to say that I love the show but I’m getting really tired of your pandering to clones-“

Nuna mashes the end button with gusto before sighing deeply into the mic.

“Babies and Gentlemen. My lovelies. From 2100 til 0500 five nights a week this is a trooper positive show. If you don’t like it I’d suggest you find something else to listen too. Those yummy boys in white are giving the Republic their all. I don’t see a problem with a few minutes here and there dedicated to them, do you?” She asks sweetly. “It makes _me_ happy making _them_ happy. You know what else makes me happy? New stuff from that Mon Cal band, Ach’tu. Coming at you after this commercial break”

———-

“Maker, I love when she does that.” Ryk groans quietly. “She could put me in my place any day.”

Rule nods, “she could read me the repair manual to my deece and I would die a happy man.”

Thire snorts, “What about you Hound. Got something to say?”

“Yeah man” Ryk lifts his head from where he was resting it against the back of his chair. “What does she look like.”

Hound offers a sly grin, “like a million credits.”

“Long legs? Big tits? You’re killing us man” Rule says raising a brow, “unless you don’t really know.”

Hound laughs, “I know _vod_ , but I’m not telling.” His brothers roll their eyes.

 _“For all my blaster babes and bucket bunnies happily messing with republic property. I salute you._ ” Nuna’s voice grabs the gathered troopers attention. Thire snorts softly, pretending as if he wasn’t listening. _“Along those lines I want to send a special thanks to my new favorite Hound dog out there patrolling the sky lanes of Coruscant. Keep being a good boy and next time we meet I’ll give you a scratch behind the ears.”_

The room falls silent except for the low snore of a sleeping massiff. All eyes fall on Hound. His smile says _I told you so_.

A _good boy_. Yeah, he could be _very_ happy with that.


	2. Chapter 2

“Mister, can I pet your dog?”

Hound looks down at the small child squinting up at him; he’s got a gap where his front teeth should be and the ‘mister’ comes out more like a ‘mither’. The kids’ moms stand a pace behind him, one smiling brightly while the other glances nervously from Hound to Grizzer. 

“Is it ok with your folks?” He’d been to his fair share of PR in services since being transferred to Coruscant. He glances at both women. He receives a nod from the more laid back of the two.

“Grizzer, _sheber_.” The massiff throws his hind quarters down with such force that both he and the nervous mother laugh. Grizzer’s tail wags a mile a minute as he takes it upon himself to lay on his belly and crawl slowly toward the child.

“He’s a good boy as long as you’re not a bad guy” Hound says squatting down. The little boy’s eyes get wide as Hound tips his bucket forward, stage whispering. “You listen to your moms, right?”

The kid nods rapidly. Hound laughs, lets relief fill his voice. “Oh good, you should be safe then.”

Grizzer eats up the attention, laying his big head in the child’s lap. Soon three other children join in. Hound talks to their parents, every now and then glancing at his partner. The massiff has turned from a well trained soldier to a glob of mush under the fawning of the children.

This was just another part of the job. Public relations was a big deal. Clones got a bad rap. Every now and then, a few troopers on leave trying to drown bad memories of the war would get on the wrong side of the law and throw the whole damn clone army back two paces in the public opinion polls, and it was the job of troopers like Hound and the rest of the Guard go try to be poster boys for the rest of them. At times like this it wasn’t hard. 

“ _Hound. Time to break it up. I need you to do a sweep of the central pavilion_.” Commander Fox’s voice rings clearly in his bucket.

“Roger that, Commander” he says before turning to address the small gathered group, “alright now, Grizzer and I have to be getting back to work.” A small chorus of ‘Awwws’ makes him chuckle. The massiff looks at him as to say the same.

“Come on, buddy. _Borarir_.” Hound gives the command for work and Grizzer perks up, giving an excited yip as he darts to Hounds side in a tight heel. “Tell your new friends bye,” Hound encourages and Grizzer gives a loud woof that has all the kids -and a few of their parents- laughing.

Hound’s head goes on a swivel as soon as they turn away. “Time to get serious now,” he instructs the animal at his side. Grizz gives him a look. “I know. I know,” hound says, reaching down to pet his head, “you don’t need to be told twice.”

The massiff huffs and his nose falls to the duracrete. Fete weeks were always crazy and with the rise they’d been seeing in terrorist activities, Commander Fox had wanted everyone on high alert.

Since being transferred to Coruscant, Hound has grown to love the craziness of Fete weeks and while New Year Fete week was his favorite, he enjoyed the Festival of Life nearly as much. Someday he hoped to experience it as a spectator and not the security. 

They skirt along the perimeter of the pavilion, where a local band was warming up. The smell of fest food from the stand of carts across the way has both Hound and Grizzer aiming their noses toward the various booths of sweet fruits, spit roasted meats, and honeyed pastries.

“Let’s make one good pass and I’ll treat you to some nerf-“

Grizzer woofs quietly.

“Fine” Hound clarifies, “I’ll treat _us_ to some nerf.”

Toward the end of their loop Hound comms an all-clear to his nearby colleagues. He’d do another loop in an hour or so but for now he’d wait and watch. 

The band has started playing finally and Grizzer puts himself in a heel as the pair sit and listen for a spell. The different radio stations have booths set up, slinging merch and freebies at passing fete goers. Hound’s eyes scan looking for IRR’s booth. He doesn’t recognize the guy signing autographs, but he does remember the head of pastel purple hair fondly. 

“That’s her bud,” he says, glancing down quickly at the massiff at his side, “Told you she was real pretty, didn’t I?”

Grizzer scents the air in the direction of the IRR booth.

Nuna Skii is off to the side unpacking boxes of this and that and setting it out on the table for passers-by. 

“I should go say hi,” he says after a minute to psych himself up. He clicks his tongue lightly and Grizzer falls in at his side as he walks towards the tables. A holoboard has been set up with the names and times each personality will be signing autographs. Hound frowns when he scans the board and doesn’t see Nuna’s name listed. The others were ok, he guessed, but who would want anyone but Nuna Skii’s signature?

“Oh my maker! What a cute baby!” Hound glances up in time to see Nuna dip down onto her knees as Grizzer leans in and gives her a wet kiss. She giggles as the massiff leans his heavily armored body against her.

“Grizz!” he scolds, and the mas’ looks up at him with a pleased look on his muzzle. 

“Oh it’s you! Hound!” Nuna tries to stand but Grizzer places a meaty paw on her shoulder. She laughs as she rubs under his jaw. “This cutie belongs to you?”

“You could say that. We’re partners.”

Hound tries not to feel jealous as Grizzer’s face is held between her small hands and she coos to him. “Big tough guard mas’. Such a sweet boy, aren’t you?” He’d give good credits right now to swap places.

“You really think he’s cute?” Hound asks as Grizzer finally lets her stand and lays down between the pair of them, head resting over one of Hound’s boots.

“What? Of course!” Her smile is bright and her deep brown eyes sparkle as she talks. “I mean, I guess there’s no accounting for taste. I had this great uncle who kept a strill named…” Nuna rubs the back of her head, “I haven’t thought about that in years,” she laughs, “I think he called it Mird? Anyway, I loved that little thing and let me tell you, Strill are certainly never going to be on the top of any list of traditionally beautiful creatures.”

Hound knows he’s staring, but she’s chattering on and he can’t help himself. When she mentions the name of the strill something pings in his memory banks but he can’t quite place it. Before he has a chance she asks him a question.

“I’m sorry,” he offers, “what was that again?”

“I was asking if you heard my shout out last week?” She’s glancing down toward Grizzer almost bashfully. When she looks back up she has her lower lip trapped between her teeth and a smile lighting up her features. Hound’s brain turns to mush. “I hope it wasn’t too much?”

Too much? He’d felt like the man for days afterwards. He’d gotten a shout out on Nuna Skii’s show and all his _vode_ knew it. 

“No it was great. Thanks.” He tries to play it cool, like it hadn’t been the single greatest thing that had happened in the last standard rotation.

“Cool.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” They look at each other silently for a moment before they both laugh awkwardly. Grizzer’s muzzle swings from one human toward the other, a wondering tilt to his head.

“So…uh… you’re not signing autographs later?” Hound gestures to the holoboard. Nuna waves him off.

“Oh, I don’t do the whole autograph thing. I like to keep the fantasy alive.”

He cocks his head curiously. In all honesty, he’d had more fantasies since he’d met her on the side of the skylane than he’d ever had before. It was one thing to think of his favorite voice in the galaxy as an unattainable holomodel, but to actually meet her and see that she was the cute girl next door. It added a whole new level to his personal time. Now he thought less about long slender legs wrapped around his hips and more about gripping on to soft, warm thighs. Less about pristine make-up and perfect hair and more about the way he’d noticed her pale brown eyes crinkle at the corners as she smiled. 

And her _voice_. He imagined she’d use that on-air voice just for him. It made his toes curl in his boots just thinking about it.

“My fans have a certain image of me in their heads. I don’t want to ruin it.” 

He wants to tell her to shift it. The image she was throwing off now was absolutely grade A but he hesitates and the moment is gone.

“So, uh, do you like food?” He cringes as the words come out of his mouth, “I mean, I was gonna get a few nerf skewers.” He clenches his hand into a fist at his side so he doesn’t start rubbing the back of his helmet. There really was no reason his palms should be sweating like they were. “I could grab you one if you want or,” he shrugs, “you could walk over there with us, maybe.”

That same bashful smile lights her face as she glances at the booth around her and back over to the personality signing autographs.

“I mean, if you can’t, that’s ok too. I was just thinking.” Hound wants to kick himself. Any game he had was completely lost the second he’d started talking to her. “If you’re busy, maybe I could just get your comm and we could do it another time.”

Grizzer whines at his feet. Nuna looks down. “Aww is the poor guy starving?”

No, he wasn’t, Hound thinks. The mooch had his rations and half of Hounds just an hour before. He was embarrassed for his master. 

“Yeah, that must be it.”

“Well we should get him something to eat, right Grizz?”

Under his bucket, Hound can’t fight the grin. Grizzer barks happily as he rises to his feet and stretches his spiny back into the air. “I guess that settles it. You, me, and the massiff makes three” he jokes lamely.

——

“You look smug?” Tully gives Nuna a questioning look. 

“I’m not smug.” Nuna hums along to the song playing in her headphones. “What’s the name of that band from Corellia? The one with the Nikto drummer?”

“Nunz, what’s with the smile?” Tully doesn’t answer her question.

“I think it’s something in Ryl-“

“Nuna!”

Nuna can’t fight the grin on her face. “Fine. I just had a good day is all.”

Tully looks unimpressed with her answer. “You spent all day slinging merch at a fete. It was hot. You didn’t sleep. You hate not sleeping. I’m going to ask you again-“

The thought of telling her friend and coworker about Hound had crossed Nuna’s mind, but she’d quickly pushed it away. It had just been a fun little distraction from an otherwise boring day. Nothing much else to say about it. They’d both been working and decided to share lunch together. He had a cute partner and, really, had she been expected _not_ to snuggle with a cuddly mas’ when given the opportunity? The look on Tully’s face says she’s not going to give up. Nuna throws her a bone.

“I maybe had lunch with someone today but it was nothing. Really. I mean it was just a guy being super nice.” The words spill from her mouth like bolts from a repeating blaster. Tully stares for a second, then two.

“You had a date? At the fete? While you were working?”

“What? No! Absolutely not. I took my lunch break and had company, that’s all.” 

The Pantoran crosses her arms over her chest and tips her chin before glancing up at her friend. “Who paid?”

Uh-uh. They were not going there. “It was not a date, Tull.” She did not date that was strictly a thing of the distant past- light years ago, even.

“Who paid?” Tully asks again, undeterred.

“I-“

“He paid! Maker, girl! You had a date! Who is he? Why didn’t you mention him before? I mean, I thought we were friends. Spill!”

Thankfully, Nuna finds herself saved by the chrono. The commercial break is ending as she turns away from the steady gaze of her friend.

“We’re not done talking about this,” Tully warns as Nuna mashes the button to her mic. 

“Nuna Skii getting you through the night. You know what’s better than a boy in blue?” The switch in persona is instant, years of practice allowing her to skip into sexy DJ mode without thought, “The answer is absolutely nothing. That last one was going out to the boys of the 501st. May your aim be true and your stims be strong.”

“I know I saw some of you lovelies enjoying the Festival of Life today. Why don’t you give me a call and tell me what you thought? I am oh so lonely tonight. Wanna keep me company?” She pitches her voice low. Tully rolls her eyes. The comm lines light up. The producer signals for line 2 with a quick flash of her hand.

“Nuna,” the first call starts, “we’re with the 234th and we’re your biggest fans!” There’s the sound of whooping in the background.

“You are too sweet,” Nuna coos, “anything I can play for you?”

“Uhh… something durasteel?”

“I got you, handsome. Thanks for listening!”

Nuna starts hunting down the next song as she switches callers to the next line Tully’s vetted. 

“This is Nuna,” she purrs in greeting.

“Nuna? This is Sergeant Sinker with the 116th Wolffe Pack.” 

“Well a-woo to you Sergeant Sinker. Were you home for fete week?”

Voices rise up in the background. Nuna stifles a giggle as she hears her caller yelling at a Boost and a Comet. 

“We’re still off world. We just wanted to say we love your show and see if you could give our Commander a shoutout?”

“Well isn’t that the absolute sweetest? I think you’ve called in before, right? You know, I always have love for the 116th and that very surly Commander Wolffe of yours-“

“Nuna Marry me!” The voice sounds far away and is followed by the sound that she can only assume is wrestling for the comm before it clicks off.

“I’m not accepting any proposals today darlings. Why don’t we listen to that request and a quick commercial break?”

Nuna wonders if Hound is listening. She’s surprised that she hopes he is.

“So spill it, girl.” Tully doesn’t waste time as the music starts playing and the mic cuts off. Nuna sighs. Apparently she wasn’t going to forget so quickly.

“He paid,” she admits, trying to ignore the smugness she hears in Tully’s voice.

“So you had a date. Was that so hard to admit?”

Nuna still refuses to call it a date because she hadn’t dated in ages and a pretty smile and a flashy set of armor and kama weren’t about to change that. She scrolls through a datapad playlist but she can feel her friends’ eyes boring into her.

“You know you’re allowed to put yourself out there. Most of them are fekking disgusting but there’s a few good ones.” Tully’s voice softens. “They’re not all him.”

This conversation was not happening now and certainly not without a bottle of wine. She was not going to think about Alistar again. His days of living rent free in her head were over. Except… they weren’t.

She’d loved having lunch with Hound and Grizzer - it had been the highlight of her week so far- but each time he’d complimented her, each time he’d asked questions like he was interested and wanted to know, she thought of her ex and the way he’d weaseled his way into her life with all the same ploys. It didn’t matter that they looked nothing alike, sounded nothing alike. She was officially damaged goods and there was just no getting past that, at least not anytime soon.

When Nuna doesn’t acknowledge her, Tully turns to screening calls versus dealing with her moody DJ. Nuna listens to the screaming durasteel coming through her headphones. I wasn’t her genre of choice but a lot of battalions seemed to have a thing for it. Who was she to argue? 

“Nunz?” 

Nuna looks up to find Tully staring. “What?”

“You got a call?”

“One I should take on air?”

Tully’s brows skim her forehead. “Oh yeah. This one’s a doozy.”

Shaking her head, Nuna moves back to the mic, counting down to the end of the song. “Live in 3… 2… 1…. hey ladies and gents I’m back. How was that for some durasteel huh? Hope it keeps your engines revved and juices flowing. Going to the comm lines we’ve got a call from…” Nuna watches Tully mouth the name. “Grizzer?”

A series of barks erupts through Nuna’s ear phones before she can respond. Tully is disintegrating into laughter as Nuna stares wide-eyed at the mic ahead of her. 

“Grizzer said he was glad he got to spend time with you today,” a smooth voice begins when the barking ends.

Nuna stumbles for a second but catches herself. “Is this- this his translator?” She teases, trying to stay in character.

“Yes, ma’am.” Hound’s warm voice rumbles through the comm and Nuna has the distinct feeling of butterflies fluttering around in her chest.

The line goes quiet for half a second and another volley of barks and a single yip respond.

“He’d like to see you again soon. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. Wants to take you out for dinner. Promises he’ll bring his chaperone with him.”

Nuna catches Tully’s eye. “Can you believe this guy?” she mouths.

“Is that him?!” The pink-haired Pantoran hisses.

Nuna shakes her hands in front of her face, as if waving away her nerves.

“Is that so?” Her mind is working overtime. In the two years she’s been on air in Coruscant she’s fielded a lot of requests for dates and more than a few marriage proposals, but this is the first of its kind. She’s not really sure how to respond. 

She flirts five nights a week on her show but those are faceless -often nameless- people. She’s met Hound. She’s been dazzled by his earnest smile, felt compelled to answer every silly getting to know you question he’d thrown her way this afternoon. Hound was different because he seemed to want to get to know _her_ \- short, round, plain Nuna. 

He couldn’t be for real.

“I hate to break it to you Grizzer,” she can hear the massiff panting over the comm, “but I only date men with thumbs and a nice head of hair.”

Tully gives her a hard look. Yeah, she was going to hear about this later.

“Oh, well.” She can hear the sudden uncertainty in Hound’s voice and a soft whine from the massiff. “I suppose he’ll catch you around then.”

She wants to tell him that she certainly hopes so because deep down she does, but it doesn’t fit with her persona. Instead she cuts the line and moves on with the show.

She’d gotten good at that. Slam those emotions deep down, lock ‘em up and throw that key away. No one could hurt you if they couldn’t get to you.

“So, anyone following the Limmie League?”


	3. Chapter 3

“ _Good morning GAR. It’s 0400. What does “o” stand for? Well I can think of a few things but let’s go with Oh maker, I’m ready to hit the rack. Any boys in white care to join me_?”

Hound would. In a heartbeat. In a Coruscant minute. 

Hound is in the gym early. Really early. He’s never needed much sleep to function at his peak but 0400 is stupid o’clock even for him. He passes the time until the mess opens lifting while Grizzer snores near his armor across the room. Right now the massiff is using his rolled up kama as a pillow and Hound wonders idly how hard it’s going to be to clean the drool off. He’s alone with his thoughts and the radio.

He falls into the steady rhythm of sets and reps. He wasn’t a small vod by any means. There’s been a joke in his batch that the settings had malfunctioned on his pod. He was only a half an inch taller, but he was thicker than his batchmates, not commando big but enough to be noticeable in a line up. Lifting weights kept his bulk from atrophying. He didn’t mind the small layer of fluff over his muscles but he wanted them strong and ready for whatever the Grand Army called him to do.

The radio plays quietly over the weight room’s audio channel. Nuna’s smokey voice is a highlight too late to save a very bad week. Two bombings and a half dozen threats (most, copy cats) had kept the Guard on edge and high alert. He and Grizzer had worked them all, tracking and searching wreckage for survivors. Hound glances at his partner. One too many dead bodies had left the massiff feeling dejected and down. Not even his favorite tug toy or a big meaty bantha knuckle has been able to cheer him up. Hound isn’t feeling much better.

He’s not sure what was causing the surge but he knows he’d give just about anything for it to be over with. On top of that (and a far better distraction than the chaos and death of terrorist attacks), there was still the matter of Nuna herself that had him spun out of sorts. They’d had fun at the Fete, even if it had only been a short time. She hadn’t been faking that and he certainly hadn’t. Maybe he’d come on too strong with the call but, honestly, he’d thought it was cute. Maybe he’d embarrassed her?

He wasn’t ready to give up just yet. It was how he’d gotten his name. Tenacious like a hound. The trainers on Kamino had joked that once he was on a trail he wasn’t giving up ‘til he completed his prime objective. 

His prime objective now was getting Nuna Skii’s commlink. And a date.

It didn’t matter that Rule had teased him after his on-air brush-off or that Ryk had given him a look that said he didn’t believe he'd had lunch with anybody let alone Nuna Skii. Hound knew though, and he knew that she’d had fun. If she hadn't, why had she smiled so brightly when he’d asked her questions? Why had she braced her hand on his arm and dissolved into laughter when he said something that was, admittedly, not as funny as it sounded in his head?

The barbell comes to rest on the rack with a clatter. Grizzer looks up from his nap, his great tongue licking lazily at his maw. 

“Do you think I’m being stupid?”

The massiff stares blankly.

“Well, yeah, but she did seem interested.”

Grizzer rises slowly, stretching with a groan before ambling over to his partner and laying his head in Hound’s lap. He manages to roll onto his back without losing contact. Hound reaches down to scratch his leathery belly.

“Yeah, well, there’s something about her I really like. I think I should try again.” 

Grizzer whines.

“But how, you ask? I’m not sure, bud.”

“ _In bigger news, it’s the end of the week and I think we all deserve a bit of a treat, don’t you?”_

Grizzer turns toward Nuna’s voice and lets out a happy sound. Hound laughs.

“No treats before breakfast, Grizz. You know the rules.” The massiff offers his handler a sad pair of eyes and Hound shakes his head. “Not gonna fall for that.”

_“Tonight ladies and lads we’re having ladies’ night at 79’s. Come find yourself a battle buddy and if one of you lucky listeners can find me I may have a special surprise just for you!”_

Hound listens intently. Ryk and Rule were sure to be down for a night out after the week they’d had. The Commander has been busy keeping his assistant _working late_ so he likely wouldn’t be game - not that Hound could blame him - but Thire might be convinced. Since the scuffle with the 501st boys a few weeks back the buddy system has been in play. The more the merrier as far as he was concerned. Now all he had to do was find a way to talk to her.

———

“If you pull on the skirt one more time, I swear to the maker I will end you.”

Nuna rolls her eyes at Tully’s threat. The skirt was too short and the Pantoran was out of her fekking mind if she thought this wouldn’t be the way the rest of the night played out. 

“I dressed you pretty for a reason. Stop trying to ruin it.”

“I look like a cased sausage.” She tries - and fails - to keep the whine from her voice. Tully softens and grips her shoulders gently.

“First off, if that's the case, you are the sexiest sausage I’ve ever seen.” Nuna stifles a laugh behind a pout. “Second,” Nuna winces as her friend punches her in the shoulder, “There’s more where that came from if I hear one more second of negative self talk tonight. Got me?”

“Kriff Tull-“ Nuna rubs at her shoulder. “Fine, I’m the sexiest sausage Coruscant has ever seen. Just don’t hurt me anymore.”

The Pantoran laughs and leans forward, placing a smacking kiss on the shorter woman’s head. “I love you and your issues,” she mumbles.

“Can we just have a drink now?”

79’s is packed. _Shebs to gett’se_. There’s the usual mix of clones from various divisions and battalions crowded in small groups of grey and white with pops of color signaling who they were to the world. There’s also a large contingent of women - every species, color and shape known to man. Nuna smiles happily as she brings her drink to her lips only to frown a moment later at the deep plum smear of lipstick on the glass.

“No transfer my ass,” she grumbles as she takes another long pull. Tully bought the first round, and whatever it is is sweet on Nuna’s tongue like star cherry candy with the familiar burn of booze behind it. It’s good but if she fills her night with more of them she’ll be nursing a killer hangover come morning. “I’ve got the next round.”

“As if I was going to let you get away without paying your fair share.” 

Nuna rolls her eyes as she finishes the last of her drink. She’s already feeling just a little bit more loose and relaxed. Her hips move in a mindless, lazy figure-eight to the driving thud of the bass. Not her favorite, but Nuna loved to dance nearly as much as she loved music. Well maybe not _that_ much, but certainly a close second.

Back home on Irmenu both had been frowned upon by the Priesthood and if they didn’t approve it was almost heretical to go against them. It hadn’t been ‘til she’d been exiled with her parents that she’d heard her first real music - outside of mindless chanting - and her first experience with really letting go and letting her body take over. It was freeing. Liberating. It was at that moment that she’d known she wanted to work around it, to be part of it somehow, for the rest of her life. It had been the driving force for so long that she had a hard time looking outside of it. Maybe that was how she’d gotten to nearly 25 and had nothing but a paycheck and an empty apartment to keep her company. Tully tries to say something over the noise of the speakers. 

She had Tully too. A better best friend no girl has ever had.

“Have you finished yours yet?” The Pantoran holds up her glass, shaking the lone ice cubes around for show. Nuna holds hers up to show hers in the same state of emptiness.

“Ready for another?”

“You have to ask? Pony up girl. It’s your turn.”

There was something nice about the anonymity of her radio persona. As she moves through the crowd she doesn’t need to worry about being recognized or stopped by a fan looking for a picture. The one disappointment was that she still had to wait at the bar like everyone else. 

She taps on the bar once to get the tender’s attention. The Twi’lek woman gives her a nod and the finger gesture for ‘one moment’ before quickly changing it to ‘two moments.’ Nuna blows a breath from the corner of her mouth. Ok, maybe a little notoriety wouldn’t be so bad once in a while. She’s waiting patiently, hip pressed against the bar, booted foot tapping along to the beat when someone taps her on the shoulder.

“Nuna?” She cringes at the voice, doing her best to press a convincing smile into place as she turns. “Hey, I thought that was you.” She flinches when a long thin finger flicks at one of the curls she’d managed to cultivate in her short hair. It bounces merrily as she looks into the face of the last man she’d hoped to see.

She only has one to go off of but, as far as exes went, Nuna was fairly certain she had one of the worst. All of the things she’d once found incredibly handsome about Alistar S’uun were now… what did Tully refer to him as?… ah yes, smarmy. 

She’d been lonely and wholly too innocent to get involved with him when she’d first arrived in the Triple-Zero, but that hadn’t stopped her from losing her heart - and other things - to the arrogant son of a bantha. He’d been all slicked back hair and clothes that screamed money. He’d taken her to nice places, introduced her to important people. She’d thought it was love until she’d walked in on him and his assistant one day when she’d stopped by to bring him lunch.

To say it ended badly was an understatement, but she’d been lucky. She hadn’t seen him in nearly a standard year. Lucky until tonight.

“Alistar,” she greets, tucking her hair back behind her ears, as if it would stop him from touching it if he wanted to. Alistar did what he wanted when he wanted, and you either dealt with it or got out of the way.

“You look great. Lost a few of those troublesome pounds?”

A wave of annoyance washes over her as she glances back over her shoulder and toward the bartender. She just needed her karking drinks so she could make her escape. The Twi’lek is still occupied further down the bar.

“How have you been?” she asks, ignoring his questions and the undertones it entailed.

“Oh you know, doing a bit of this and that. Father is letting me take some of reins on the new acquisitions-“

“That’s lovely, Alistar. I’m very happy for you,” she lies through her teeth. His father was a shipping magnate and nepotism had been good to Alistar. 

Nuna glances toward where she’d left Tully and sees a flash of red and white talking to her. Her heart stutters only to realize that it’s not the now somewhat familiar armor Hound wore. The trooper is somewhat smaller, less broad through the middle. The tell-tale snarl is missing from his helmet.

“I hear that little radio show of yours is still doing well.” 

Here it comes, she thinks. This was always how it started. Alistar would make some little undermining comment and she’d get upset. Inevitably she’d be crying and he’d tell her she needed to get a sense of humor. Nuna could see it all unfolding before her eyes, but this time she wasn’t going to fall for it. 

“I always knew you had a face for radio-” he smiles widely holding his hands up, “Oops! you know what I meant, right Nunz?”

“Yeah, Al, I got you loud and clear.” Her smile is forced and she grits her teeth with such force she’s surprised one doesn’t crack. “So it’s been lovely catching up but I’m going to go find Tull-“ His hand catches her upper arm as she turns to leave. She regrets wearing the sleeveless top Tully had picked out. She doesn’t like the feel of his skin against her own.

“Still friends with the Pant? Maker, you really are desperate aren’t you? Stay and talk for a while. I’m better company.” She shakes off his grip, his smile now beginning to look just as fake as the one she’d been wearing. 

She promised herself wasn’t going to take the bait, really she wasn’t, she was better than that… but he’d brought Tully into it.

“She cares about me more than you ever did.” The smile is gone now and Aliatar’s pale brows arch up in surprise at the venom in her voice.

“So are you laying like a cold fish for her to fuck you too? Low standards-“

She turns to move again, puts one foot in front of the other, before he yanks her back. The heel of her boot slips and her stumble only makes his grip tighten. Her arm twists in a way that sends pain shooting like wildfire from her shoulder to the tips of her fingers.

“Don’t you dare walk-“

Nuna had never hurt so much as a fly in her life, but the blinding rage that rises up from her gut does something to her. Before she can even comprehend what she’s doing her balled up fist is connecting solidly with Alistar’s face. He doubles over while Nuna whines, snapping her hand back to her chest before beginning to shake it roughly. The pain she’d felt in her arm was nothing to what her knuckles were feeling now.

“Kriff, Kriff, Kriff,” she grits out, flexing her fingers.

“Why you dumb little nerf cow-“ She glances up to see Alistar take a step toward her. Something akin to fear prickles at the back of her senses. She’d seen that look before in his eyes. It scared her now like it had back then.

“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.” Red and white armor steps into Nuna's view. “What seems to be the problem here?” Hound's voice is easy going as his head swings from Nuna to Alistar, who is rubbing his jaw, his other finger jabbing accusingly in Nuna’s direction.

“This little bitch-“

“Alright buddy” Hound holds a hand up calmingly “I’m going to stop you right there. Let me clarify-“ he turns to Nuna fully. Her heart stutters as he pulls the hand she’s cradling close to her chest up for inspection. “What’s going on here, sweetheart?” he asks quietly. 

“I was just trying to leave and he grabbed me. It hurt,” she tries to tamp down the tremble in her voice, “I just wanted him to let go.”

Hound gives her an unreadable look. His thumbs stroke gently over her knuckles. Something warm springs to life in her belly that takes the edge off her discomfort. 

“Hey, you! Clone,” Alistar’s voice rises up, “I demand this woman be arrested. I’ve been assaulted. You’re in the Guard. Do your job.”

There’s a tic in Hound’s jaw, really the only thing that gives the slightest hint of his annoyance as he turns back to the other man. A small crowd is gathering around them, mostly clones with a few civilians scattered in.

“Ok friend, first it’s _Sargeant._ Second,” he glances around and Nuna sees familiar colors of clone armor; blues, yellows, and reds surrounding them, “From my vantage point it looked like you were hurting the lady.” The clones around them nod in agreement.

“Oh this is just fracking great!” Alistar laughs, throwing his head back and taking a deep breath before glaring between Hound and Nuna. “You’re fucking her aren’t you?” he spits at Hound before rounding on Nuna, “You’re fucking government property now? That’s low even for you.”

Nuna feels tears welling up. She didn’t want to do anything now but go home and get away from the looks she just knew were coming her way. She glances down at her feet. When she looks up Hound is grabbing Alistar by the shoulders. His movements are quick, efficient, and practiced. 

Hound tips Alistar forward just enough to bring an armored knee up into the other man’s unprotected gut. Alistar doubles over with a strangled wheeze, gripping at the bar for support before sinking to his knees. Hound turns his soft eyes to her.

“You’ve never punched someone.” It’s not a question. He takes her hand again, thumb stroking over her tender knuckles. “Wiggle your thumb,” he encourages, offering her a bright smile when she does.

“Ok. Good. It’s not broken,” he announces to himself, “Never wrap your fingers around your thumb. Next time you might not be so lucky.”

Nuna nods mutely.

“So what you _want_ to do is-“ he proceeds to shape her hand into a fist. His big gloved hands completely envelop her smaller one as he tucks her thumb against the outside of her balled fingers. He presses it firmly as if to make the point that this was where it was supposed to be.

From the way he’s acting, she’s more inclined to believe she’s part of one of the ‘girl power’ self defense classes at the community center around the corner from her apartment as opposed to a clone bar. Hound is pleasant- no, he’s nearly _perky._

“See how much nicer that looks? Certainly safer for your hand.” Nuna hears a few clones around them hum in agreement. Surreal. “Now, it wasn’t a bad first swing, but you didn’t follow through.”

“Kriffing… seven hells,” Alistar wheezes behind them. Hound makes a sound in his throat to catch her attention from the other man struggling to stand up.

“What you need to do next time is follow through. The target isn’t his jaw. It’s this _magic_ little spot behind his jaw. Do you understand?”

Nuna’s eyes are drawn to Alistar who is rising to full height, murder written in his eyes.

“Hound-“ she tries to warn him but he merrily waves her off.

“Let me show you, ok?” The big man turns without missing a beat and his fist makes its best attempt at going through Alistar’s jaw. Her ex crumples into a heap, platinum hair disheveled, onto the sticky bar floor. 

“Kriffing glass jawed pretty boy,” Hound mumbles as he turns back to her just as jovial and happy as he’d been devouring the nerf skewers and talking about Grizzer at the fete.

She hears a small cheer of “Oya!” go through the gathered ranks as a few clones grab the unconscious man by the shoulder and the rest begin to disperse back to their various areas.

“See? Just like that.”

Nuna swallows hard, bites back a nervous smile and finds her voice. “Just like that?”

“Yup.” Hound rocks back on his heels. “So do you wanna come have a drink with me- us?”

He sounds so hopeful, like pulling the whole Jedi Knight in shining armor bit hadn’t won him at least a little favor. She nods and he gestures for her to move ahead of him, leaving the other troopers to see her unconscious ex out the door. 

Hound takes up a position behind her, his hand hovering over her hip to guide her toward the table his brothers stood around. Tully is already there with a serious look on her face.

“Are you ok?” She takes Nuna by the shoulders, looks her over.

“I’m good. I promise.”

“Maker I hate that no good piece of bantha spit.” One of the Guard behind her chokes out a laugh. Tully’s eyes fly to Hound, narrowed and assessing. “So this is the guy?”

“I’m the guy? What guy?” He looks at Nuna questioningly. Something mischievous sparkles in his gentle brown eyes.

Nuna feels her cheeks heat up as she bites out her friend's name. Tully ignores her.

“You bought her lunch at the Festival of Life?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you called into the show to ask her on a date?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Tully looks to Nuna and then back to Hound. “What’s up with the _ma’am_ ? _”_

Hound rubs at the back of his neck. His brothers snicker in the background. “Courtesy, ma’am?”

“Call me Tully,” she orders shortly, finally relaxing. Hound breathes out a sigh of relief.

“Vod? You gonna introduce us to your little friend?” 


End file.
